#what does it all mean? baby I Do Not Know there is no coherency here

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Stories from Hans Andersen - Edmund Dulac (writing mine) // The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland In A Ship Of Her Own Making (photo mine) // Roll Away Your Stone - Mumford and Sons // Fables: The Wolf Among Us 45 - Dave Justus, Matthew Sturges, Travis Moore // Mirrors (for Billie Jean King) - Nikki Giovanni // Pilot - Once Upon a Time // Millhouse - Maisie Peters // The Faraway Nearby - Rebecca Solnit // Meditations in an Emergency - Cameron Awkward-Rich // Scheherazade - Édouard Frédéric Wilhelm Richter // Firewood - Regina Spektor // How It's Going To Be - Gerard Way // Fundevogel - Grimms' Fairy Tales translated by Lucas, Crane, and Edwardes.

[lupinqs]

MIGRAINE ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: on big east media day, you’re unfortunate enough to get a migraine

☆ ━ word count: 2.9K

☆ ━ warnings: descriptions of migraines, throwing up

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, based off of this req

☆ ━ author’s note: two fics in one night omg WHO AM I??? also i promise this is not rlly dramatized y’all this is quite literally how my migraines are …….… wish i had a paige during them 😞

BIG EAST media day—it’s today. Usually, you don’t mind media days at all. Actually, you tend to enjoy them. But, clearly, today you’re not meant to.

As soon as the sun broke through the windows of the New York hotel, Paige had woken to the sight of your scrunched-up face, a hand pressed to your temple. You both knew what it meant: you had a migraine, and today of all days, it had to hit with full force.

Paige had immediately rolled out of bed, grabbing your migraine medication from your bag that you’d luckily remembered to bring in a “just in case” situation. However, you’d been resistant to at first, knowing full well that the medicine would upset your stomach like it always does, but Paige had insisted, forcing you to take it. “You know we can’t skip today. Just take it, baby. It’ll help with the pain.” Reluctantly, you’d taken the pills, and with an an hour, just as you were sitting in hair and makeup, the side effects hit. You’d bolted from your chair, leaving the startled makeup artist behind as you rushed to the bathroom to puke your guts up.

Paige had followed immediately, kneeling beside you in the small, cramped bathroom stall, rubbing your back as you heaved into the toilet. The nausea subsided eventually, but Paige was worried you’d thrown up all the medicine in the process. You hadn’t had time to find out, though—there were interviews to do, and you, always the professional, was stubborn enough to push through.

Now, you and Paige sit side by side, a row of reporters in front of you, microphones held up like weapons ready to attack. The lights in the gym are blinding, and the low hum of chatter, camera clicks, and reporters scribbling notes fill the space. It’s the last place you want to be.

Paige, sensing your discomfort, takes the lead in most of the interviews. She fields question after question, her voice steady and charming as she answers everything from season goals to the team’s camaraderie. Next to her, you sit rigidly in your chair, staring at the ground, fingers pressing hard into your palms as if trying to will the pain away.

Every so often, a reporter directs a question at you, and Paige watches closely, knowing that forming coherent, professional sentences is probably the last thing you want to do. Still, you force a tight smile and give a short, clipped response, voice strained but composed. The pain etched across your face is subtle, but it’s there—just enough for Paige to notice, though you try your best to keep your expression neutral.

It’s damn near agonizing for Paige to watch you like this, especially when she knows how badly you’re hurting. She can tell that the migraine’s wrecking you, she’s been there for so many at this point that she knows all the little signs like the back of her hand. She wishes she could turn the lights down, quiet the reporters, and just take you somewhere dark and silent to rest. But there’s nothing she can do—you just have to endure it.

As the interview drags on, one reporter, a man who looks younger and more inexperienced than the others and who’s clearly growing impatient with your curt answers, rudely points at you, addressing you by name before saying, “You really don’t look like you want to be here today. I mean, is something wrong with you?���

The words come out sharp and are strictly unprofessional. Your eyes flicker toward the reporter, though you can’t see half of him due to the darkness shadowing parts of your vision. You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say. Your brain is hardly functioning, the throbbing in your skull is unbearable, and you can’t even muster the strength to care about his tone. All you want is for this to be over.

But Paige cares.

Her gaze snaps to the reporter, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her posture shifts, body leaning slightly forward, protective instincts kicking in immediately. Usually, she’d stay more poised, composed, let her media training do the work for her. But she isn’t about to let anyone talk to you like that, especially not today.

“Excuse me?” Paige’s voice is sharp, cutting through the room. She’s sure that there’s a camera recording this right now but she quite literally could not care less. “What did you just say?”

The reporter, startled by Paige’s reaction, fumbles for a moment before stammering, “Um, I just mean that she looks… unwell. She’s not really answering the questions.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “Maybe you should think before you speak next time. She’s here, answering your questions to the best of her ability despite not feeling great, and you should respect that instead of makin’ snide comments.”

The side of the gym they’re on grows even quieter, the weight of Paige’s words settling in the air. You, who’s still staring at the floor, blinks, heart swelling with gratitude. You don’t really have the energy to defend yourself, let alone sit up with your eyes open against the bright lights, but knowing Paige has your back—it’s everything.

The reporter, realizing he’s on thin ice, mutters an apology, his face turning red under the harsh lights. Paige doesn’t bother to acknowledge it, her focus shifting back to you, her hand subtly reaching out to squeeze your knee under the table.

The rest of the interview continues, but Paige’s attention is divided now. She keeps on eye on the reporters, answering questions with ease, but her other eye is always on you, watching closely. Your face has gone even paler, and every few minutes, your eyes flutter shut as if you don’t even have the strength to keep them open against the blinding pain.

Finally, the session begins to wind down, and as soon as the last question is answered, Paige is out of her chair, gently taking your arm and leading you away from the microphones and cameras. The two of you step into a hallway, away from the noise and lights, and as soon as you’re alone, you lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes with a shaky breath.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “Feel like my head’s about to explode.”

Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I know, baby. You did so good, though. We’re almost done, okay? Just a little longer, and then I’m taking you back to the hotel. Dark room, no noise, just you and me.”

You nod, though even that small motion seems to cause you pain. And you pray that she does good on that promise, especially as the two of you go back into the gym. You end up sitting on a bench next to Azzi waiting, resting your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to block out the harsh gym lights and constant noise. Your head throbs with a relentless pulse, nausea rolling in waves, and your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse. Azzi’s softly rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm, whispering little encouragements.

But when Geno and CD approach, apologetically telling Paige that she and you have one more interview to do, Paige immediately starts protesting.

“No. No way. I can do it by myself,” she says firmly, already standing in front of the two coaches, shielding you from them like a protective wall. “She’s not in the right state for this. Just look at her.”

Geno and CD turn their heads to look over at you. You’re still slumped against Azzi, face pale and drawn. Your lips are pressed into a tight line, and your eyes are glossed over, clearly fighting back tears of pain. It’s not a pretty sight.

“I know, Paige,” CD says, eyes soft with sympathy. “We hate this as much as you do. But this interview is important. She’s got to do it, too.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “CD, come on,” she says in what can only be called a plea. “Please—she’s hurting. She’s in pain. You’re tellin’ me we can’t work somethin’ out?”

Geno sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish we could, kid,” he tells her. “But this is the last one, I promise. After this, you can take her back.”

Paige mutters a curse under her breath, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. She glances back at you, who’s face is so pale and worn-out that it makes Paige’s stomach twist.

“Fine,” she says finally, voice tight with defeat. “But this is the last time I’m putting her through this.”

Geno and CD both give a nods of understanding, and Paige turns, making her way back over to you. Kneeling in front of you, she places a gentle hand on your knee. “Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft with regret. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we gotta do one more interview. Just one more, and then you’re done, yeah?”

You open your eyes, and the utter pain in your expression makes Paige’s heart ache. You look like you’re damn near about to cry, eyes brimming with unshed tears, but you nod weakly anyways, ready to do what you need to even though you’ve clearly hit your limit.

Paige sighs, hating this situation more than anything. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, hoping in vain that it might ease some of the pain within your cerebrum. “I promise, after this, I’m taking you away, okay? I ain’t letting anyone stop us.”

You nod again, swallowing hard as you fight to keep yourself in check. Paige stands, gently helping you to your feet, and together, the two of you make your way toward the interviewers, you subtly leaning on Paige as much as you can, because if you’re honest, you can’t see most of your surroundings.

The interview itself is a nightmare. The questions seem never-ending, and although Paige answers most of them, there’s still some directed only at you that you’re responsible for. Each time, you know you sound stupid, voice hoarse and response almost incoherent. The lights are too bright, the noise too overwhelming, and by the end of it, you visibly look like you’d rather die than be here.

As soon as the interview is done, you don’t even wait for Paige. You rush out of the gym, once again heading straight for a hallway where it’s at least a little bit darker. Paige hurries after you, catching up just as you half-collapse against the wall, fighting tears.

“It hurts so bad, P,” you cry raggedly. You clutch at your head, hands trembling as you press them to your temples before moving them over to your eyes, squeezing them shut and pressing your palms against them hard. “I—fuck—I can’t—”

Paige’s stomach constricts. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, pressing your face into her neck to shield your eyes from any and all light. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, making sure to be as quiet as possible, voice filled with soothing warmth. She gently rubs your back, rocking you slightly as you’re near-sobbing against her.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Paige murmurs thickly. “I shoulda fought harder to get you outta that. But I’mma take you back to the hotel now, okay? I don’t care what the fuck else we’re supposed to do today.”

You don’t respond with words, just nod weakly against Paige’s neck, fingers clutching tightly at the blonde’s shirt as if trying to ground yourself.

Paige carefully guides you to sit on a bench in the hallway, leaning you back against the cool wall. “Wait here for just a sec, okay? I’mma be right back, just gotta tell Coach and CD we’re leaving.”

You nod again, your eyes fluttering closed as you rest your head against the wall. Paige brushes her thumb over your cheek, her heart splinting all over again at the sight of you in so much fucking pain. Then, with determination in her step, Paige turns and goes in search of Geno and CD.

When she finds them, they’re in the middle of talking to a few other staff members, but Paige doesn’t care. She marches up to them, her expression set in stone.

“I’m taking her back right now,” Paige says firmly, unwavering. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care what else we’re supposed to do here. She’s in too much pain, and I’m not putting her through any more of this. And I’m definitely not sending her back by herself.”

CD looks like she wants to argue, but one look at Paige’s determined face, and Paige can tell the older woman knows it’s pointless. Geno sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“Go,” he says quietly. “Take her. We’ll handle the rest.” He gestures to himself and CD, then over to where Azzi, Ash, and Sarah stand.

Paige nods once, her gratitude unspoken but clear. She doesn’t waste another second, turning on her heel and heading straight back to you. Once she gets to you, she helps you up, wrapping a firm arm around your waist. The two of you head toward the doors and then are out into the cool air of the New York streets. The noise of the city hits you like a wall—cars honking, sirens wailing faintly in the distance, the chatter of pedestrians—but Paige moves quickly, guiding you down the sidewalk.

The hotel is technically within walking distance, but Paige refuses to put you through that. Instead, she stops at the curb, pulls out her phone, and hails an Uber.

“It’s okay,” she whispers as you press yourself against her side, hiding your face in her shoulder as the nausea rolls through you again. “‘M not making you walk, don’t worry.”

The car pulls up almost immediately. Paige helps you inside first, sliding in next to you and carefully pulling you into her side again, buckling your seatbelt for you. It’s probably the shortest car ride of either of your lives, and you don’t say a word for any of it, just continuing to rest your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Paige presses a soft kiss to your temple, reassuring you you’re almost there.

When the car pulls up to the hotel, Paige thanks the driver quickly, helping you out of the car with her hands steady on your hips. You cling to her without hesitation, your legs barely cooperating as, by this point, the majority of your body has gone numb. She doesn’t mind, though, guiding you through the lobby and toward the elevator. The ding of the doors makes you wince and Paige notices immediately. “I know, baby,” she murmurs softly, guiding you inside and pressing the button for your floor.

The ride up is quiet except for your unsteady breathing, and Paige’s grip never loosens. As soon as the doors open, she’s leading you to the room, swiping the keycard and pushing the door open in one smooth motion.

“Here we go,” Paige says gently, helping you inside. She lets you stumble toward the bed, watching closely as you basically collapse onto it with a shaky breath. Paige then moves to the windows, yanking the curtains shut until the room is bathed in near-total darkness. The relief is instant—you let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing just slightly as the pressure in your head dulls a little without the presence of light.

Paige isn’t done. She rummages through your bag until she finds your medication again, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge before kneeling next to the bed. “Hey,” she says softly, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. “You gotta take this, yeah? It’ll help.”

You groan faintly in protest, turning your face into the pillow, but Paige doesn’t back down. “Ma, c’mon,” she coaxes, voice firm but still tender. “I know it sucks, but you gotta take it. Just one more thing, and then you can rest.”

Reluctantly, you crack your eyes open, barely able to see her face in the dark, but you feel the pill pressed gently to your lips. You take it without complaint this time, swallowing it down with a sip of water Paige helps you hold.

“Good job, baby,” she praises, pressing another kiss to your forehead. She sets the bottle on the nightstand before kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping her arms around you. She pulls you close, her chest flush against your back, one arm sliding under your head to cushion it while the other wraps proactively around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers softly into your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe. ‘M right here.”

You whimper faintly in response, you body still shaking, but you relax the tiniest bit in her hold. Paige’s touch is gentle, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your stomach as she tries to calm you down. She presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, murmuring sweet nothings that you can barely process through the pain.

A small sob escapes you as a particularly harsh stab to your skull hits. Paige only pulls you closer, holding you like she can absorb all of your pain into herself. “I know it hurts. I know,” she says softly, her voice cracking slightly as she wishes, more than anything, that she could take it all away for you. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m here. Always.”

And she means it—Paige Bueckers would hold you through every second of the pain if it meant you didn’t have to face it alone.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒎𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆ (PT. 2)

OKOKOK I MADE THE PART TWO PLS STOP YELLING AT MEEEE

NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

Characters/fandoms: Captain Curly, Mouthwashing Content warnings: Smut, obvi, p in v whatt, curly being a SLOPPYYYYY eater, praise (from you and him), boobs, tits even, curly being 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, alot of dirty talking, etc. Our boy curlys a bit of perv.

-Manners? What manners?

Curly is a, what do you kids call it... a munch? Yes. If he goes down on you, and he most likely will, he will be SLOPPY with it. I'm talking drooling all over your cunt, licking it from top to bottom, shaking his head side to side and pressing wet kisses to your clit. It's ironic, really, since he's so polite in and out of bed, but he doesn't really care about a mess if it means pleasuring you. What's a little mess? Sheets can be washed.

"Sorry *kiss* about the mess, sweetheart.. *kiss* can't *kiss* help myself."

-Beautiful tits. And rack. Love it.

When asked the question 'ass, tits or thighs,' he's gonna pick tits. He's a titty guy. Sure, your ass and thighs are nice too, and he gives them an equal amount of love, but nothing can beat the feeling of shoving his face into your boobs when he's thrusting in and out of you. It has something to do with hearing your heartbeat and how fast it is, but mostly he just likes suffocating between your twins. And if he's particularly stressed, he'll just set you on his desk and lift your shirt up and go to town. Sucking, squeezing, rubbing, all that. His favorite stress balls. And god forbid the day you get nipple piercings... He's mindlessly playing with the metal with his teeth, enjoying the feeling of the cold brass on his tongue. You'll have to wear bandaids. (which he'll apply, apologizing profusely.)

-Praise me for sin.

Call this man a good boy and he's whining and shaking. It goes both ways with him. He loves getting praised, and he loves praising. A few of his favorites.. "You're doing such a good job." "Look at you, taking everything like a champ." "God, you're gorgeous." "Good girl." "You're so pretty, baby.." "Atta-fuckin-girl." He knows you fold every time for that kind of talk, so he makes sure to say at least one while you're getting naughty. On the other hand, some of his favorites to hear.. "That's a good boy." "Thank you." (Manners.) "I love you so much." "You're too good." "Fuck, that's good." Hearing how good of a job he's doing is only fuel for him to keep going, and gets him hard as a rock. So, use that mouth. (Unless its occupied, wink wink.)

-He babbles when he comes.

When he's right on that edge, he goes a bit dumb. You feel so warm and good, and he's so fucking close, and his brain just loses all ability to form coherent thoughts. So he just mumbles whatever comes out of his mouth in that adorable whiny subby voice. (You know the one.) "Fuuuuck too good too good too good.. baby.. g'na make me come, coming, coming." Or just a chorus of 'yes' over and over. Its really cute because he tries to be quiet with it, but his brain is so broken that he can't control his volume too well. He has to shove his face into your shoulder or a pillow to muffle himself so the crew doesn't overhear.

-Can't stop, won't stop.

Will not give up until you come, no matter how sore his cock is or how cramped his legs are. He wants you to come as many times as possible before the night is over, and he's willing to overwork himself to achieve that. You've told him its okay, but he doesn't really care. Feeling you clench around him and ride out your orgasm is the best thing he's ever felt, so he's gonna have you coming at least 3 times each session. Unless, of course, you're begging him to stop since its too much. He'd never want to hurt you. He'd pull out and lay with you for a while and let your body calm down before starting up again. "Take it easy, angel. I'm right here. It's okay, you're doing so well." (Why does his dirty talk sound like him coaching you through birth?? 😭)

[nativegirltapes]

. . . drew’s new found fame was something you knew would come, he was too good of an actor to not get his big break. you just didn’t realize how much you and your relationship would suffer from it ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

warnings / angel being an insecure bihhh (kind of), drew comforting her, happy ending bc life is sad enough to make a sad ending <3

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the homemade pasta you'd been working on for the past few hours mindlessly staring at the pot, but that's the last place your mind was.

you heard the door open and close, meaning drew was finally home. you fixed your posture and mentally prepped yourself. you felt so guilty, making drew's publicity basically all about you, but you literally couldn't help it.

"hey," drew came up behind you, embracing you in his bigs arms, leaving kisses on your ear. "how's my baby?"

"hi." you continued to stir the pasta, making every attempt to distract yourself from the tears that were threatening to spill. “how was your day?”

"it was fine," drew rubbed your back, he wanted to be close to you, to feel your touch. he hated being away from you, even if it were for just a few hours. "boring day. what did you do?" drew asked, desperate to hear more from you. usually the minute he walked through the door you were talking his ear off.

"not much." you replied.

"can you look at me?" drew's tone was firm, maybe even a hint of hurt. why weren't you talking to him? “what’s wrong?” drew asked the minute he seen that glossy layer in your eyes.

“it’s nothing,” you lied. “really.” you wiped your eyes, embarrassed that you were crying over something that was supposed to be a good thing.

if you didn’t want to talk about it, drew wasn’t going to force you, he wasn’t like that, but boy did he hate seeing you sad. “are you sure?” he hugged you, you buried your face in his chest, which for some reason made you want to cry even more.

“i just love you,” you mumbled in his shirt, you weren’t sure if he could ever hear you. “and i don’t want to lose you.” drew pulled away, looking down at you with furrowed brows and a confused look. “lose me? i’m right here.”

your sad doe eyes looking up at him all puffy and red did something to him; seeing you sad made him sad. “well i don’t know,” you looked down, but drew quickly grabbed you by your chin and made you look up at him again. “what if you find better than me?”

“better than you?” drew chuckled. “i don’t think that’s possible.” he wrapped his arms around you again, giving you a peck on the head. although you knew drew didn’t lie to you, you still couldn’t help but feel like he was just saying that. “i’m serious.” he assured you, like he could see right through you and everything you were thinking. “i only want you.”

unable to form a coherent response; you embraced him in a hug. he never made you feel like you were too much, in fact he loved you because you were ‘too much.’

“how bout this pasta?”

[caladblog]

i know right know everyone's (correctly!) obsessed with arno for throwing that Molotov cocktail onto the jamis/remy slow burn but i have to impress upon u all just how unwell i am about how luck/maldoror is about ludovica seriously they're like

i'm an evil god. i'm ten thousand past lives in one lesbian trenchcoat. i could kill you any moment. you're not afraid of me? what's wrong with you? be afraid. call me if you need anything. i'm only helping you out of boredom. i'm not impressed by you. you're fascinating. i want to give you the world. i want to raze the cities of your enemies. i'm not giving you my secrets. what do you mean, you're back to find my secrets?? don't you have any sense of self-preservation? oh ok that's a no then. haha same. i've got the sinking suspicion you might be dangerous to me specifically but whatever it's not like i'm the god of good decisions. i'm the manifestation of divine rage and loneliness. i'll physically fight my other selves if they try to hurt you. girl i think you got me experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known? i don't know what's going on but here's the means to achieve all your hopes & dreams. i'm a pirate. i'm made to destroy the world. you asked me why i haven't destroyed the world yet, oh my god, who DOES that?? tell me to kiss your ring so i can smirk and call you arrogant. you're a baby. you're a speck of nothing. pray and i shall personally answer. no of course i don't have a coherent plan, why did you even ask at this point!

and that's not even as a character arc that's just like! all at once! chaotic monster feelings that stem from being simultaneously a thousand versions of the same monster but also a single person and who knows why anybody wants anything but this want is undeniable as a rising wave and they're excited to find out if they drown in it, appetite of their own appetite,,

hh.

[saturnsorbits]

Stuck Between a Soft Place

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Tit Fucking, Cum Eating, Pictures/Filming. Word Count: 2k.

'Babe?'

Bakugo's voice floats down the stairs, the question in his tone worrying for a man who has always treated even his opinions as facts.

You pause, head cocked. He'll shout again if it's urgent, if not -

'Babe... Babe!'

Officially intrigued, you skip up the stairs and follow his voice into your bedroom.

Bakugo looks up as soon as you fill the doorway, a weary smile tugging at his lip. He's perched on the end of the bed, boxer-clad and supporting a raging hard on that has already stained the front of his underwear. There's still droplets of water on his shoulders, beads from the shower he must have just stepped out of. It makes his skin glisten, his pale flesh almost glowing in the low light that trickles in through the translucent fabric of your curtains.

You fold your arms. 'You best not have called me all the way up here for: that.' Glaring at his cock, you raise your eyebrows as it twitches in response to your scolding.

'No.' Bakugo barks, but no sooner are the words out of his mouth than he's trying to cram them back in again. 'I mean, I -.' The words stick in his throat. With all the blood currently filling his cock, his brain feels sluggish. His thoughts cloud, coherency evading him as he tries to see past the request plaguing his mind.

Shaking your head, you sigh. 'Should have just come down and bent me over the counter again. I liked that...'

Bakugo puffs out his cheeks, knees bouncing under him.

'Spit it out.'

'I want to ask you something...'

'Oh, I can tell.'

'Not that.'

You scoff, hand moving to your hip. 'You don't want to fuck me right now?

'No. No, I do.' He inhales, pecs heaving as he steels himself against the hesitancy that nips at the lining of his stomach. 'If I tell you something, can you promise not to get mad?'

Popping your hip, you flick your tongue against the corner of your mouth. 'Alright. Did you cheat on me?'

Bakugo looks like you've just slapped him. 'What the fuck? No.'

'Go see 'Chako's new baby without me?'

'No.'

You wince. 'Tell Shouto that I secretly hate his new hair?'

'He's going through a phase.' Bakugo chuckles, the tension in his shoulders slowly leaving with each of your questions.

'It's awful.'

'I didn't tell him you hate it.'

Chewing at your lip, you scrunch your nose and pretend to think for a moment. 'Then no, I'm not gonna be mad.'

The air in the room feels hot. It burns Bakugo's skin, making him want to squirm. Clearning his throat, he ignored the persistent pulsing of his cock and begins to speak. 'Sero was talking about one of his girlfriends giving him a tit-wank and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you doing it to me since.'

'That's it?' You bite your tongue to stop the laughter from bubbling up your throat. The words 'tit-wank' falling from your typically gruff boyfriends lips something you didn't think you'd ever hear.

'Fuck off.' Now it's Bakugo's turn to cross his arms. He pouts, lip turned out as he looks up at you through thick eyelashes. He sulks. 'You know I have a hard time asking for shit.'

Stepping over the threshold, you come to a stop between Bakugo's knees. The spread of his legs accommodates you easily, your thighs brushing as you reach out and gently hook a finger under his chin. 'Don't ask then. Tell me.'

Bakugo chokes. It's a struggle to fight the haze that threatens to overwhelm him, but he manages it. Just. You're a vision, all easy confidence and curves, with your tits so close to his face that it's impossible not to stare straight at your cleavage. Dragging his eyes away, he meets his fate head on and submits to the amused arousal swimming in your eyes.

It takes him a moment to reorient himself, to slip from under your spell, but as soon as he does he dons his ego easily. Clearing his throat, he takes your hand from under his chin and grips your wrist. 'On your knees.'

You obey quickly, hitting your knees with a force that makes you thankful for the carpet. Already you can feel your cunt pulse, the tell-tale beating that promises another pair of ruined underwear and a desperation that only Bakugo can tend to.

'Take this off.' Slipping his finger under the strap of your tank top, he snaps the material against your skin.

You hiss, but waste no time. Stripping off the offending item, you toss it behind you and sit up, pressing your elbows together to make your tits sit pretty for inspection.

Bakugo swallows. His cock bobs. Gritting his teeth, he summons all the strength he has as he lets his eyes roam your naked chest. 'No bra, huh? No wonder you've got me going crazy. Look at what you do to me...' He grabs himself through his underwear, a wicked grin turning his lip as he watches the way your breath hitches.

'Can I?' You blink up at him, hands still poised on your knees despite the urge to touch him running through your veins.

He nods and you're on him in a second. You push your cheek against his hardness and nuzzle against the muscle. Desire radiates from him, causing his cock to twitch as you pull back and lick a long, thick stripe up over his clothed erection.

'Fuck...' Bakugo forces his lungs to take in air, curling over himself he watches, besotted, as you drool over him. The tip of your tongue presses to the rim of his clothed head, flicking at him in a way that makes his stomach tighten. Travelling lower, you encourage him to lift his hips, yanking his underwear off and down his legs.

Bakugo’s cock, once free of its confines, slaps back against his stomach. It’s thick, although average in size with a pretty, pink head that leaks lazily down its length. Pre-cum has given his skin a pearlescent sheen, one that begs to be cleaned and promises salt and satiation as a reward. The veins that run underneath pulse. Purpling as they near his base, they vanish, obscured by a thicket of dark blond hair that grows wiry from his groin.

You lick your lips and whine, knowing you’ll have to wait for your treat.

‘Don’t be like that baby…’ Bakugo reaches down and grips your jaw, mirroring your earlier gesture. ‘Don’t you wanna make me feel good?’

You nod. In your shorts your cunt drools. Your arousal pools, dripping down your calves as you sit ad pretty and wait.

Twisting his wrist, he places a thumb against your lips and ruins your pout. He slips the digit into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. ‘You’ll get your taste. Just gotta let me use you a little first, ha?’

You suck on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks as you curl your tongue and lap at the underside of his digit. The impatience in your stomach kicks, but you fight it for long enough to shift forwards and press your chest to his thighs.

His skin is warm against your tits as you cup yourself in cool hands. Stretching out your spine, you lift yourself up until you can lean over and slide him between.

Bakugo slips his finger out of your mouth immediately. The sight is already too much, the feel of your flesh against his a siren call to a premature end.

Leaning further into him, you press your chest to his cock, a literal flesh light that promises to fulfil all of his sordid dreams. You lock eyes with him, forcing him to bear witness, as you gently begin to use your tits to jerk him off.

The first pass feels like heaven. His cock pulses, balls pulling up tight as he fists the sheets beside his thighs. Each joint in his knuckles pale, his arms locking at the elbows as he viciously fights the urge to begin fucking up into you. ‘Fuck. Fuck -.’ He pants, chest expanding as he struggles to take in enough air.

Tilting your head, you smile sweetly and ask: ‘Is this what you wanted?’

His words jam behind his teeth. ‘Yes. Yes. Fuck - y-you feel amazing, doing so good. So fucking good.’

‘Yeah?’ There’s mischief swirling in your stomach as you watch him struggle to maintain his control. His head is thrown back now, the tension clear in the veins that trail over his shoulders.

You love him like this. Lost to himself. To pleasure. Comfortable enough to bare his throat to you.

‘So you don’t want me to do this, then?’ You don’t wait for his response, just let the tip of your tongue peak from behind your lips and lick at the soft crown of his head. Salt explodes across the back of your tongue, soaking into your saliva as you savour him and swallow him down.

Curling over himself, Bakugo feels his entire body strain with the effort to stall his orgasm.

He snaps forward, eyes watching hungrily as you continue to please him. Still, looking at you doesn’t help. You look debauched with bright cheeks and that twinkle in your eye that lets him know he’s done for. He can see his pre-cum coating your flesh, the softness of your tits glazed already with his excitement. Even your tongue, as you slip it back into your mouth, is dashed with him destined for your insides.

It happens quickly then, as he watches the head of his cock engulfed in your warm mouth. The pressure is too much. Coupled with the wink you toss him over the scene - he really should have known…

You flinch as the first lashing of cum splashes against your mouth. Ropes of it follow as it seems to reach everywhere, saturating you. It makes you feel dirty. Claimed. Take a picture…’ You pant.

Bakugo’s eyes almost burst out of his head, his cock kicking violently between your tits. A valiant effort from the otherwise spent muscle.

You lick your lips, careful not to disturb his masterpiece.

The echoes of his orgasm are anything, but fleeting. His stomach is tense, his shoulders too as he wrestles himself into a state of straightness once more… Already the bone deep satisfaction only you can deliver to him is settling in his joints. It makes him easy, bringing back the bite of confidence he’s so used to.

Reaching backwards, he pats the duvet until his phone bounces into his hand. He flips it, flicking open the camera with a practised ease, but comes to a halt when lays his eyes back on you. He swallows.

Bakugo’s been sure of a lot of things over the years. He was sure he’d go pro. Sure he’d be Ochako’s best man. Sure he’d never find a curry better than how his mum makes it. And, yet, he’s never been more sure of anything than you. Emotion tickles his throat. ‘You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. You know that, right? So fuckin’ sexy.’

You roll your eyes.

‘Oi.’ He cups your cheek, forcing your eyes to lock. ‘You’re so fuckin’ hot, you don’t even know… You could have fucking anything, you could.’

‘That right?’

You smirk and he knows he’s in trouble. Bringing the phone up, he snaps a few shots off in quick succession. All of them promising to have him hard within moments. Your tits are soft, cushioning his cock between them. Only the head of his cock peaks out, red and rosy and dripping in cum. It covers the rest of you too, from breast to face. It's even nestled in the groove of your tongue, something you've openly displayed for the camera, coupled with a wink.

Unfolding yourself, you stumble to your feet, helped by a steady palm on your forearm, but before you can escape Bakugo grabs at your ass and waist, yanking you close to him. His nose bumps against your sternum, tongue flicking at your skin as he cleans a streak of his own cum from your body.

You let him, indulge him for a moment and then, you’re lacing your hands in his hair and pulling: Hard. His neck snaps back, crimson eyes blown wide. You laugh. ‘Keep those pictures. I’m going to get a shower.’

He swallows audibly, the click like a gunshot in the ambience.

You unfurl yourself from him and tap the phone in his hand. ‘Oh, and Katsuki… When I get back, we’re gonna make a movie.’

Bakugo groans, flopping back on the bed. His cock twitches, balls tightening again despite the recent release. Already his mind is swimming, the arousal in his stomach making him dumber by the second. ‘You’re gonna be the death of me woman!’

The door to the bathroom shuts, locking your laughter behind it. ‘And you’re gonna love it.’

-> Full Masterlist

[edenesth]

TWTHH Bonus: The Little Lotus Blooms

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: This takes place after all of the members' spinoffs. It's probably best for you to finish everything before reading this, but it can also be read if you do not mind spoilers and have no intention of reading the spinoffs.

Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

"Still stuck on the baby's name, I see," came the familiar voice that never failed to both irritate and amuse your husband. Seonghwa smirked, his hand still gently rubbing your tummy. "And what does that have anything to do with you?"

The dressmaker scoffed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense as he approached. "It has everything to do with me, especially since I'm clearly going to be the godfather of this little one."

You smiled, but before you could respond, the general spoke first. "In your dreams, Kim Hongjoong. You won't be this one's godfather, so it's time to let go of that fantasy. If you're so eager to be a father, I suggest you focus on having one of your own. After all, you're about to have a Mrs. of your own soon enough."

Before Hongjoong could form a coherent response, he sputtered and flailed, completely caught off guard by the mention of his upcoming wedding. His face flushed a deep crimson, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to find his voice.

"T-that's… none of your business!" he stammered, clearly flustered. After all, it had taken him forever to gather the courage to propose to poor Miss Baek. The lengthy courtship had almost convinced the girl's family that the dressmaker had no real intention of marriage, leading to whispered doubts that he was just stringing their daughter along. He hadn't heard the end of it until the day he finally asked for her hand.

Just as he opened his mouth to shoot back a retort at Seonghwa, another voice broke into the conversation.

"About damn time, Kim!" Yunho called out, his deep laughter filling the room as he approached. The physician looked far too smug, and the gleam of amusement in his eyes only made Hongjoong's face burn brighter. The dressmaker shot him a glare.

"Don't get all cocky just because you got married slightly earlier than I did!" the older male of the two snapped, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "What are you even doing here?! The dinner isn't for hours."

The general and his wife shared a knowing look, unable to stifle their chuckles as the doctor raised a brow at the accusation.

"I could ask you the same," Yunho replied, unfazed. He gestured to the bags of medical supplies at his feet. "I'm here to ensure the mistress is in optimal condition before meeting everyone, of course."

Hongjoong sniffed, waving a dismissive hand before gesturing to the garments draped over his arm—a collection of beautifully embroidered hanboks. "And I'm here to ensure she looks as stunning as always. Just as important as you, Jung. Don't flatter yourself. I understand good health is essential," he added, glancing the taller man up and down pointedly. "But clearly, a complete lack of fashion sense can be just as problematic."

Yunho's eyes widened in sheer offence. "Excuse me? What do you mean, a lack of fashion sense?! My wife said I looked—"

The dressmaker lifted a hand, silencing him immediately. "Of course she did, my friend. She's your wife; she has to say that. But I'm not, so I can be brutally honest."

Yunho's mouth opened, then closed again, clearly affronted. "You—"

"Don't take it too personally," Seonghwa interjected, his smirk deepening as he rested a protective hand over your belly. "You know how he is. The moment there's even a whiff of competition, he'll immediately declare himself the best at whatever it is."

"Which is everything," Hongjoong sniffed, lifting his chin proudly.

"That's debatable," the general drawled with a pointed look.

Hongjoong's mouth opened, ready with a comeback, but the doctor raised a hand to cut him off, the irritation from earlier melting into weary acceptance. "Alright, alright, let's get back to why I'm actually here—to make sure our dear Lady Park and the baby are doing well."

The dressmaker rolled his eyes dramatically, waving Yunho off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Fine, do your little check-up. But once you're done, it's my turn. I have real work to attend to—unlike some people who just poke needles into others all day."

Yunho sighed, dragging a hand down his face in feigned exasperation, while Seonghwa and you exchanged amused looks. They were always like this—bickering, teasing, and turning even the simplest interactions into a spectacle of humour and banter.

You smiled softly. Thinking back to when you first met them all, you never could have imagined that your husband's closest friends would become yours too, filling your life with such unexpected warmth.

Jongho sighed heavily as he stepped into the room, his gaze zeroing in on the dressmaker with a look of pure exasperation. "I swear, there can never be peace with you around. I told you to come an hour later, but you never listen—"

Hongjoong immediately raised a fist, eyes narrowing in mock indignation. "Watch your tone! I'm still older than you," he warned, but the assistant only rolled his eyes, unfazed as he reached out and unceremoniously grabbed the dressmaker by the sleeve.

"And if you don't cooperate, I'll tell Miss Baek you were being difficult again."

That instantly shut him up. The effect was almost comical—the once-feisty designer went rigid, then muttered something unintelligible under his breath before letting the younger man drag him out of the room. The rest of you couldn't hold back your laughter, chuckling at how quickly Hongjoong folded at the mere mention of his fiancée. It was a sight that never got old.

"Well," the physician grinned, shaking his head in amusement, "looks like we've finally found his weakness."

The general chuckled, his gaze lingering on the doorway where the two had vanished. "It's not just him. Look at the rest of us," he said, raising a brow knowingly.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a smile as Yunho continued his check-up, his touch gentle and practised as he listened for the baby's heartbeat. He looked so different now compared to when you'd first met—less guarded, more at ease. The once-serious physician now wore a relaxed smile as he worked. Miss Ryu truly had softened him, just like Miss Kwon had done for Jongho.

Your heart swelled at the thought. Absentmindedly, you rubbed your belly, glancing up at your husband with a soft expression. "They've all changed, haven't they?" you murmured quietly.

His eyes warmed as they met yours, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "Yes, they have. Just like I have," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. "All thanks to you."

Warmth spread through your chest, and you shifted your gaze back to Yunho, then to the door where Hongjoong and Jongho had disappeared moments before. A sense of anticipation bubbled within you as you thought of the others you'd be seeing later—San, Mingi, and Wooyoung, who had become like brothers to you, and, of course... Prince Yeosang, your dearest friend.

As you imagined future gatherings, you could already see a bustling and heartwarming scene filled with little ones running around, laughter and shouts echoing through the halls, and these men transforming into doting fathers and playful uncles.

Gosh, you could hardly wait to see it all unfold. The future seemed so bright and full of promise, and you knew, deep in your heart, that it would only get better from here.

"What's got you so deep in thought, my lady?" the dressmaker asked with a gentle smile as he carefully painted the signature flower on your forehead—the perfect final touch, as always.

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Do you think His Highness will come?"

Hongjoong scoffed lightly. "I genuinely have no idea, my lady. He seems awfully busy with his new princess," he remarked, and you nodded, a wide smile blooming on your lips.

"He is, and I'm so happy he's finally found someone."

"Then why does it matter if the prince is here?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone already knows I'm going to be this little one's godfather anyway."

You clicked your tongue playfully, rolling your eyes. "Here we go again. I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

He placed his hands on his hips, feigning offence. "I'm your idiot husband's oldest friend; it only makes sense that I get the title. The rest should just accept it and fall in line."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his stubbornness. When he finally finished, he stepped back, giving you a once-over before softening, then moved to sit across from you. "You look stunning, my lady."

"Thank you, Joong, for always reminding me of that," you said warmly. "But flattery won't get you anywhere—I've already made up my mind, and it won't be you."

He shot up from his seat, gasping dramatically. "What do you mean it won't be me?! You can't do this to me!"

Before you could respond, the doors to the House of Lotus swung open, and your husband entered. This time, however, he wasn't alone. In his arms, nestled close and bundled in delicate silks, was a little something—or rather, someone—very dear to your heart.

"That's enough, Kim Hongjoong," Seonghwa drawled, his voice tinged with mock annoyance as he stepped forward. "How greedy can you be, huh? You're already Yeonjoo's godfather. I'm not giving you the title again for our next child."

Your heart swelled at the sight—the way it always did whenever you saw your little princess cradled in her father's loving embrace. Her soft giggles filled the room as her tiny fingers curled around his sleeve, and a smile spread across your face. That's right—Hongjoong had been named godfather to your firstborn two years ago. Much to your disappointment, the prince hadn't been able to attend her birth celebration despite his promise, but you understood. He had new priorities and commitments. Still, a small part of you hoped he'd be here this time—for the sake of old memories, and perhaps to provide a sense of closure.

The dressmaker's eyes lit up, and his earlier sulkiness vanished as he nearly skipped forward, excitement radiating off him. "Oh, my little Yeonjoo!" he cooed, his face softening as he reached out to take her carefully from your husband's arms.

"Ugh, fine," he muttered, holding her close and gently stroking her hair as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. "I bet you're just trying to spare my precious Yeonjoo from getting jealous. I suppose one of those other losers can have the honour for the next one," he grumbled, pouting slightly as he gazed down at the little girl.

You chuckled softly at his dramatic tone. Titles aside, it was clear Hongjoong adored your daughter deeply. She looked up at him with wide, shining eyes and a bright smile that could melt even the sternest of hearts, and it was obvious she shared that affection. You watched, warmth flooding your chest, as she patted his cheek clumsily, babbling a string of sweet nonsense that made the man's expression melt into a delighted grin.

"See? Even she agrees," he sniffed proudly, shooting a triumphant look at Seonghwa.

The general rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, but the fondness in his gaze was unmistakable. "Just because my daughter doesn't know better yet doesn't mean I'll indulge you."

"Your appa's just being mean," Hongjoong murmured softly to Yeonjoo, his voice filled with exaggerated sympathy. The little girl giggled, her laughter bright and clear. "But don't worry, sweetheart. You'll always be godfather's number one."

You shook your head, laughter bubbling in your chest as you watched them. "Honestly, Joong, you're going to spoil her rotten."

"Going to?" Seonghwa quirked a brow, looking amused. "He already has." Then he turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "But I think our princess deserves to be spoiled a little, don't you?"

You smiled up at him. "Of course. Only the best for our little girl."

"Well, since I won't be the next one's godfather," Hongjoong said, feigning indifference, "who are you going to pick? Don't tell me you're actually considering one of those blockheads."

You exchanged a knowing look with your husband before turning back to the dressmaker, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Maybe. Or maybe I have someone else in mind entirely."

As if on cue, Eunsook, your head maid, appeared at the entrance and offered a respectful bow, her smile warm. Right beside her was Miss Kwon, the ever-diligent maternity expert, who immediately stepped forward, carefully guiding you to your feet.

"The guests have arrived, master and mistress," Eunsook announced softly.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically but complied, reluctantly handing Yeonjoo back to her father. "I suppose I should join the rest of those ruffians then," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the child's cheek before straightening up with a smirk. "See you out there, General and Lady Park."

With one last playful wink, the dressmaker slipped out, leaving the room with a swirl of elegant robes. Your heart fluttered in anticipation, excitement bubbling up within you. You were going to see all your friends again—the people who had become your family over the years.

As Seonghwa cradled your daughter close, his free hand reached for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You glanced up at him, smiling softly, and he returned the look, his gaze brimming with unspoken emotions. Together, you made your way toward the hall.

"You look well, my lady. Did the medication I recommended help with your sleep disturbances?" Royal Physician Ahn asked as she approached, her voice gentle yet laced with the attentiveness of a true healer. It was the first chance she'd had to speak with you after the initial rounds of greetings exchanged. You had grown fond of her since meeting her at the royal banquet, and especially so after Mingi had begun openly courting her. Since then, she'd been a constant presence in your life, whether by her own will or by His Majesty's orders, assisting in your care both during the last birth and your current pregnancy.

You nodded warmly, squeezing her hand in return. "It did, Physician Ahn. It worked like magic. I've been sleeping like a baby lately, all thanks to you."

Her shoulders relaxed visibly, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. You couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your tone turning mischievous. "Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. Who would have thought Officer Song had it in him to win you over, hm?"

A delicate blush painted her cheeks as she stammered, utterly flustered. But before you could tease her further, a tall shadow loomed beside her, and Mingi stepped in, a broad grin spreading across his face as he slid an arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Now, now, Lady Park, let's not overwhelm her," he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You know she's still not used to all the attention."

"I'm simply complimenting your success, Officer Song," you shot back playfully. "It's not every day someone catches the interest of the Royal Physician."

Mingi's grin widened, but before he could respond, another voice interjected, stealing your attention.

"Look at you, Lady Park. It feels like just yesterday we were celebrating little Yeonjoo's birth, and now, here we are again, awaiting another mini Park. You and the general certainly don't waste time, do you?" Scholar Moon's teasing tone cut through the room as she approached, linked arm-in-arm with her husband, Royal Secretary Choi.

You felt your cheeks flame at the comment, especially when San shot his wife a chiding look and squeezed her arm as if to gently rein her in. "Darling, don't embarrass the lady," he murmured softly, though the amusement in his eyes belied his words.

You tried to sputter a reply, mortified, but before you could get a word out, a familiar warmth appeared at your side. Your husband was suddenly there, his presence solid and reassuring, a small, amused smirk playing at his lips. He looked so effortlessly charming, and it made your heart flutter just looking at him.

"Indeed, we don't waste time," he agreed smoothly, his gaze shifting playfully to Scholar Moon. "But perhaps it's time you and San hurry up and have one of your own as well, Scholar Moon."

Her mouth fell open in shock, eyes widening as she spluttered, "I—! We're not—!"

"I don't think we're quite there yet," Secretary Choi intervened gently, though his strained smile hinted at his own embarrassment. His eyes flicked between you and the general before landing back on his wife, whose face was now a bright shade of red.

Stifling a laugh, you nudged Seonghwa lightly. "Behave, Hwa," you murmured, though your grin betrayed your halfhearted scolding.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he persisted with mock innocence, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone knows San's eager to start a family. Why not make it official?" He cast the secretary's wife a pointed look, making her blush deepen to an alarming shade.

"You—!" she started, but before she could finish, a joyful peal of laughter rang out from across the room. You turned your head just in time to see Investigator Jung cradling Yeonjoo in his arms with his partner hovering close beside him with an adoring look on her face as she watched the two of them.

"Yeonjoo certainly knows how to charm everyone, doesn't she?" Miss Han remarked warmly, her gaze softening as she looked up at the little girl. "Just look at her. She's going to be quite the heartbreaker one day."

Wooyoung chuckled, gently bouncing the child and eliciting a delighted squeal from her. "With parents like these two? There's no doubt about it." He glanced over at you and Seonghwa, his playful expression turning sincere. "Congratulations again, General, Lady Park. Your family is truly blessed."

"Thank you, Wooyoung," you replied softly, watching as your daughter gurgled happily in his arms. Your gaze shifted to Miss Han, her presence calm and grounding beside him. "And I hope it's not long before we're congratulating the two of you as well."

She blushed, her eyes darting to Wooyoung, who just laughed, the sound rich and unburdened. "Perhaps soon," he murmured, a hint of promise in his voice. "But for now, let's focus on celebrating you."

It was then that you caught Miss Ryu's gaze from across the room—her smile brightening the moment your eyes met. Now officially Yunho's wife, she looked radiant as ever as she hurried over, her husband trailing behind her with a knowing grin.

"Oh, you're glowing, my lady. I'm convinced this one's a son," she said, her voice lilting with excitement.

The physician chuckled softly beside her. "She's been saying that for months now," he teased, gently squeezing her shoulder.

You shared a hopeful glance with Seonghwa before turning back to her. "Thank you. We've been hoping for a boy too," you admitted, warmth filling your chest at the thought.

Before anyone could say more, Hongjoong sauntered over, his arm loosely wrapped around his fiancée's back. "I'm sure having a son is nice and all," he scoffed lightly, "but are you positive that's why she's glowing?" His gaze turned mischievous as he leaned forward, clearly fishing for compliments.

Miss Baek's eyes widened, and she gave him a small nudge, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Joong, please…"

But the dressmaker, being himself, merely shot her a wink. He cast a playful look at the physician's wife, who raised a brow in challenge. The teasing rivalry between them was no secret, and it extended to their spouses as well.

"If you think it's your makeup skills making her glow, I'm going to have to scientifically explain to you why it's a lot more than just your artificial tools enhancing her appearance," the herbalist shot back with a laugh, her words soft yet precise. Her analytical nature was showing, and it made Yunho's smile grow wider.

Hongjoong's jaw dropped, feigning outrage. "Excuse me? Are you doubting my artistic abilities, Mrs. Jung?"

Just then, Jongho appeared, his hand linked with Miss Kwon's as they joined the growing circle. He rolled his eyes, already looking exasperated. "Please, don't start. I swear, every time you two are in the same room, it turns into a debate."

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head as you glanced around at the gathered group. Yet, despite the lively chatter and warm company, there was still a lingering sense of something—someone—missing. You found yourself scanning the room again, your heart dipping slightly as you realised that perhaps he truly wasn't coming after all. Maybe the promises of friendship had been nothing more than a polite white lie to comfort you back then. Perhaps…

"Apologies for our tardiness! It felt like the entire city decided to celebrate with us today—the crowds made it nearly impossible for our carriage to get through smoothly."

The deep, familiar voice cut through the air, and everyone's heads whipped around in unison. After a moment of stunned silence, they quickly bowed deeply, voices mingling in a respectful murmur.

"These subjects greet Your Highnesses."

Yeosang and his wife exchanged quick, flustered glances before raising their hands to stop the gesture. "Oh no, please! There's no need for such formality," the newly minted fourth princess said warmly. "We're here as friends today."

It was your first time meeting her, but her grace and kindness were immediately apparent, and you found yourself thinking how perfectly she complemented the prince. Your heart, which had felt heavy just moments ago, lightened at the sight of the couple as they stepped forward to join the circle.

The fourth prince's gaze found yours, and he flashed you a familiar, boyish grin. "I hope we haven't missed too much. Please, let the princess and me know how we can make up for our tardiness."

Your smile softened warmly. "Better late than never, Your Highnesses." You glanced at your husband, a sense of peace washing over you as he gave you a gentle, encouraging nod.

"No need to worry," you continued with a welcoming tone. "You haven't missed anything major. After all, the main event can't truly begin without the new baby's godparents present." The royal couple's eyes widened in surprise at your words, while the rest of your friends cheered.

"And you can make up for being late by accepting the role," General Park added with a teasing smile.

And that is all, folks. This is the final chapter and it officially concludes the TWTHH series. It's a bittersweet feeling to end it; it's undoubtedly one of my proudest creations, but I'm also super excited to finally be able to work on newer things!

Once again, I just want to thank each and every one of you for being with me on this journey. I hope this epilogue was decent! Perhaps some of you might not agree with who I've chosen to be little Park's godfather (but my heart wants what it wants lmfao). Y'all, let me know your thoughts! It'd be awesome if you could share a bit about how you stumbled upon this story and what you liked about it! <3

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[back2bluesidex]

Gin and Tonic - JJK Ft. Kim Mingyu (18+)

Pairing: Jungkook X Fem Reader X Kim Mingyu

Theme: Pwp, SMUT

Wordcount: 2.2k+

Summary: If Jungkook is pungent as Gin then you need Mingyu as Tonic water to soothe your throat.

Warnings: Explicit sex, filthy sex, threesome, oral male receiving, reverse cowgirl position, she takes both of them at the same time, protected sex and unproduced sex both (wrap it up), creampie, cum eating.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: This is written as a birthday gift for my bestie @phenomenalgirl9. belated happy birthday girl. Hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: I am not a carat and I don't even know the names of seventeen members properly. I have written this just because my bestie is a carat army and I wanted to write something to quench her thirst. hehe. so, please don't mind if Mingyu's character here is vague. I don't know him well to write him properly.

Masterlist | Patreon

“W-what do you mean?” you can’t help but shutter. 

The initial shock hasn’t died down yet but you can see another wave approaching you just when your dear boyfriend opens his mouth, “I mean, this. Is. your. Birthday gift.” he gestures towards the other man sitting right beside him. 

You want to scoff. He spoke those words with extra intervals between them as if it would start making sense in that way. If Jungkook thought so then he was wrong. 

Because nothing makes sense anymore. 

You dare risk a glance at his best friend, the other man, Kim Mingyu - aka the epitome of beauty and puppy energy. 

He smiles innocently at you, even though the proposal is anything but innocent and your stomach winds up in knots. 

“But jungkook… this… how- I mean-” you try to speak again but your state makes it tough to form a coherent sentence or a thought for that matter. 

Jungkook stands up from his side of the couch and walks towards where you are sitting. Mingyu stays silent for the entire time as if he needs approval in order to start speaking. 

Propling down beside you, Jungkook reasons, “Why not, Y/N? Remember you once told me how you want to be in charge for once?” 

Your eyes go wide. Jungkook is really talking about your bedroom practices right when his best friend is sitting there, looking like a three-course meal. 

“Yeah but how does that have anything to do with him?” you whisper. Honestly, you are not that frank with Mingyu. You have seen him only a handful of times since you and Jungkook got together. 

Jungkook chuckles, “Baby, you already know that being dominant is like my second nature. I can’t let you be in charge even if I try. So, I am giving you a chance to dominate the most submissive man I know” he points towards Mingyu again, who still stays silent, “as a birthday gift.” 

You wish Mingyu would say something. Something like this is not a good idea. But that guy- does he even know how to talk? 

“But baby-” 

“Oh come on, Y/N. You low-key love the idea. I have caught you throwing glances at me several times before. And I would be lying if I said the image of you riding me didn’t cross my mind.” Mingyu finally opens his mouth and now you wish he would have stayed silent. 

You don’t dare look at him, you divert your eyes towards your boyfriend, almost expecting Jungkook to be mad at Mingyu’s confession but when you look at him.. You find him smirking. 

Jungkook stands again and this time he stands towering your figure. Mingyu follows his suit. 

“We will take good care of you baby. Just trust us.” Jungkook speaks looking down on you. You can see his eyes hazy with lust already. 

“I will be good, I promise, Y/N.” this time it’s Mingyu. You finally take a good look at him, he is wearing a beige hoodie with a pair of dark denim - he looks like a Greek god descending to earth just to make your one wish come true.  

Your boyfriend on the other hand has chosen to go all black. A black t-shirt with a black zip-up, a black beanie and equally black jeans. He knows you drool when he dresses like that. Hence, the choice of his outfit is intentional. 

This might be a one-time opportunity- I mean- two of the most attractive guys you have ever seen are ready to pleasure you on your birthday, what else would you even want? 

You should say yes. 

So you nod a yes, even though your insides are already burning with anticipation and you feel like you will faint from the sheer excitement that is filling every nuke of your body. 

“Good girl.” Jungkook praises, poking his lip ring with his tongue. He then dives down and picks you up bridal style like a sack of rice, “let’s go then.” 

Jungkook crosses the distance from your living room to your bedroom with only five big strides, Mingyu follows him closely. 

He sits you on the bed and retires himself to sit on the armchair placed at a corner. 

“Y/N baby, he is all yours to play with.” Jungkook speaks in an authoritative tone. His voice sends goosebumps all the way from your head to toes. 

“Hey, Y/N. loosen up, yeah? I know you are nervous but it will be fun. I will do whatever you ask me to do okay?” Mingyu sits on his knees to match your eye level. He probably sensed your nervousness. 

His voice is really soothing, soft. Unlike Jungkook, his tone is not at all demanding, kind of pleading if you add. So you nod a yes. 

“So for starters, tell me what do you want me to call you?” He smiles sweetly. Your heart melts a little and you set yourself at ease. 

“Call me by my name only.” you reply. 

“Okay.” he takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of your hand. Your skin is now ablaze. 

“Can I kiss you here?” he places his index finger on your collarbone. You utter a yes. 

Mingyu moves forward and places the next kiss on your collarbone. His kisses start small but soon turn into huge, open-mouthed, wet kisses. 

Your hands wander around his shoulders, then to his chest, to his hair and you feel impatient already. You need to see him. You need to see him naked. 

“Undress yourself, Gyu.” you order him softly. 

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” Dang, did your name always sound so good rolling out from Mingyu’s pretty tongue? 

Mingyu stands up and starts undressing himself by taking off his hoodie. Soon he is standing only on his briefs. 

You are so distracted by the guy that you completely forgot your boyfriend is basically sitting right there enjoying the show. 

You ogle at Mingyu, who opens his mouth to place his demand this time, “Y/N… can I undress you? Hm?” 

That’s when you realize that you are still completely dressed. You nod nervously. You have never been naked in front of two males at the same time. 

But you don’t get the chance to feel much because Mingyu works fast. Within a few seconds you are sitting only with your panties on. Panties that Jungkook got you as a gift. 

“So pretty” Mingyu mumbles. His left hand comes to touch your tits but you swat it away. 

With a weird flare of confidence within yourself you say, “did I say you could touch me?” 

Mingyu visibly jolts at your sudden change of persona, “n-no. I am sorry.” 

“Good that you apologized. Now go and sit up against the bed.” you point at the space where you want your boyfriend’s best friend. 

Jungkook is amused to say the least. As much as he likes you as his babygirl only, he needs to admit that you are quite hot while trying to be in charge. He has already started getting hard but when he sees you straddling Mingyu’s lap and placing your core right on his crotch, his cock twiches inside his pants. 

Mingyu groans, which is understandable. 

You feel Mingyu’s erection poking at your entrance through the layers of clothing and you start getting wet at once. The pretty groan that Mingyu lets out doesn’t help at all. 

Once you are seated properly, you start rolling your hips against him. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers get lost in his dark hair. 

Fuck! This feels so good already! Why did you even think of declining the offer? 

“Can I suck your tits, Y/N?” Mingyu asks cutely. 

You sigh, “you can.” and he takes a nipple inside his mouth. 

His tongue rolls your nipples inside his mouth for a few seconds and then he starts suckling on the bud like a hungry beast. His sucks are so powerful that you start seeing stars. As a result, you grind on his length harder than ever. 

Mingyu can’t help but moan and moan. He is a little messy by the way his drool is dropping down the mound of your breast and landing on your stomach, but you are loving it much more than you thought you would. 

His strong hands hold you by your waist, pressing you down on himself. 

“Y/N, I- ump- I want to be inside you.” Mingyu speaks with a mouth full of your tits. You are pretty sure you have bruises all over your chest by now. 

However, Mingyu’s confession somehow catches you off-guard. He really wants to fuck you? As in fuck you for real? Will things be normal between you and him after everything or between him and Jungkook- oh fuck- Jungkook. 

You twist your neck by 90 degrees to catch your boyfriend sitting at the corner of the room. But the scene that welcomes you - heightens your hornyness tenfold. 

Jungkook has gotten rid of his pants and he has his shaft on his hand. He is semi-hard and massaging himself to uncover his cock’s full potential. 

The sight has you choking on your own spit and wits, too bad that Minguy is now thrusting up while biting down on the skin of your throat. 

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but feel an invincible urge of sucking him while Mingyu is inside you. 

“I- I want to suck you, daddy.” you murmur. But Jungkook hears it anyway. 

“You want me suck me while my best friend fucks you, huh? You dirty little whore.” Jungkook chuckles while standing up from his seat. 

He comes to stand before you and Mingyu in no time. 

“Gyu, wrap yourself up.” Jungkook hands him a packet of condoms. Mingyu accepts it with a nod. His face is all messy with his own spit. His underwear sports a large wet spot due to pre-cum. 

You chuckle at the sight, “you really want to fuck me, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes.” he nods eagerly. 

You help him in getting rid of his briefs and putting the condom in. then you dismount yourself from his lap only to sit facing Jungkook. 

As you slide down on Mingyu’s cock in reverse cowgirl position, your mouth falls open with the length and girth that welcomes you. 

The stretch is delicious. 

Once you sink in, you take Jungkook’s length in your hand, and rub the pre-cum on his tip. 

Spitting on your hands, you lubricate Jungkook’s giant cock and place the tip on your tongue. 

Just when you take Jungkook fully inside your mouth, your hips roll back on Mingyu’s length. The rhythm that you set yourself in seems to work perfectly. You don’t miss a beat in riding Mingyu and sucking jungkook off at the same time. Both men are a mess by the time you feel your legs giving up. 

Both of them are groaning, moaning, head thrown back. Hair clinging to their forehead with sweat. 

You are not doing much better. Both of your two primary holes being penetrated at the same time is as overwhelming as it is rewarding. All while Mingyu’s fingers draw vigorous figure eights on your clit. 

You jump on Mingyu’s cock one last time and gag on Jungkook’s cock as your orgasm hits you like a loaded truck. 

You fall on Jungkook's chest and you can feel Mingyu grabbing you by your waist.

You are almost relieved, almost because within a moment, Jungkook is grabbing you and laying you down on the bed. 

“Now it’s my turn” he says as he pushes the tip of his cock inside your wrecked hole. 

Mingyu is sitting right above your head with his shaft in his hand, he throws the condom away and starts massaging himself. 

You are well aware that none of them has hit their orgasm yet. So you take the charge again. 

You grab the base of Mingyu’s cock and direct it to your mouth but the pace Jungkook has taken up already makes it tough to suck the other man properly. 

You still do your best. 

Mingyu chants your name again and again. You see his eyes rolling back by your own rolled eyes. He is on his fours and you swear this is one of the best sights you have ever seen. 

On the other hand, Jungkook pinches your clit pounding inside you raw. Your walls clench him promising another mind-numbing orgasm. 

“Hold it. Hold it for a few seconds.” he says as his own rhythm starts to break. You know he is close too. 

Inside your mouth Mingyu’s cock twitches. 

“Let go.” Jungkook says and you let yourself go. 

You squirt, spitting your juices all over Jungkook’s shirt and face, Jungkook spills inside you. As if on cue, Mingyu spills inside your mouth. 

You lie there like a mass of torn limbs for how long you don’t even know as the both men try to catch their breath. 

—

“By the way, how do you know that Mingyu is submissive ?” You question. The picture of Mingyu on all fours with his cock inside your mouth while Jungkook fucks you dumb is still plaguing your mind. 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything but he smirks. 

Fuck. Did they? 

The question renders your throat dry. 

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos

[ningvory]

payment methods — ning yizhuo

CW: noncon, landlord gp!ning, reader has a boyfriend but ning doesn’t care, darcyphilia, power imbalance, creampie, cumming inside, squirting, ning has a thing for pretty girls, crybaby reader, ning’s lowk a perv and she REALLY hates readers bf, lowk yandere vibes from ning, tummy buldge, breeding kink, nipple play

word count: 839 words

anon ask? yes!

this is very noncon so pleaseeeee read with caution!!

ningning knows this is wrong, she’s a business woman and she should really evict you and your bitchass boyfriend from your apartment. it’s been multiple time that your rent payment had been late.

even her friend, karina warns her that her weakness for pretty girls would soon get her in serious trouble. but she honestly can’t help herself! the way you plead to her with tears threatening to fall, telling her to give you a few more days and that you promise you’ll pay the rent, while wearing shorts that are far too short. she can’t help but think about ways to corrupt you.

so, here she is infront of your apartment door once more, waiting for you to open the door.

once you open it, your eyes almsot automatically begin tearing up and mouth opening to speak but she beats you to it, “y’know, there’s other ways you can pay me,” she says. eyes dark and slowly walking closer to you.

you don’t understand what she means by that so you just look at her shockingly, “really? i-ill do anything i swear!” you babble out. you’re so naive it has her chuckling.

too innocent that you let her lock your door and she’s immediately pouncing on you, pushing you to the wall and pinning you there while grinding her already hardened cock into your ass.

“w-wait—i didn’t mean this!” you sob, desperately trying to free yourself from her grip but that does nothing but push your ass into her even more.

“i’m being nice and offering you another option, take it.” she mutters, making whimpers fall from your mouth.

your lips began to quiver and you let your tears ruin your face when you felt her hands slide up under your oversized shirt to grope your tits.

“no bra? tch, you’re basically asking for someone to fuck you, pretty.” she mutters, before diving in the crook of your neck to suck your neck.

she began to suck on your neck, taking a deep breath of your scent before moaning. she ran her hand under your shirt to grope at your tits. squeezing them before pinching your nipples, making you whimper at the stinging pain.

“n-ning—it—hurts,” you whine out between sniffles wanting her to stop tormenting your tits.

“oh don’t cry, baby, it’ll be over quicker if you cooperate.” she slides her hand down to remove your shorts and panties and unbuttoning her pants before removing her boxers, revealing her hardened cock leaking with precum.

you let out a unintended gasp when she pulls your hips back to meet her cock, pushing into your tight cunt with a whimper from the tightness.

“w-wait—stop! d-don’t wan’ it.” you cry and try to run away from the feeling of her cock bullying her way inside you.

but oh, ning doesn’t care what you want, she’s gripping onto your waist to hold you in place before pounding deliberately into you.

“you d-dont wan’ it? so whys your cunt squeezing me so well then?” her words are a bit slurred and she’s struggling to keep her pace.

“n-no! i’m-i’m serious! a-and what—if—what if he comes back?” you ask her, referring to your boyfriend. you try and put up a fight that you know you’ll loose, you’re trying to twist and squirm your way free but to no avail, causing her to growl in your ear, “fuck—him, he doesn’t—fuck!—deserve you anyways. you’re fucking mine. g’na mark you up so everyone can see who you—fucking belong to,” her mind is hazy and she’s struggling to make a full coherent sentence. nothing but the thought of breeding you in her mind.

she’s fucking into you wildly, chanting, ‘you’re mine, g’na fill you up’ repeatedly making you moan and drool all over yourself at the feeling of her big dick pumping into you.

her saying how she’s gonna fill you up with her cum as your cunt squirting all over her and the floor. but she continues to fuck you through it.

“please don’t come inside,” you protest, but your cunt is saying the opposite, your dripping cunny is suffocating her cock, making her whine and pump into you quicker and sloppier. she moans one last time before pushing her cock all the way in and holding your hips in place. thick ropes of her warm cum start spilling into your cunt.

the overstimulation and her cum painting your insides white causes your body to shake. you think it’s over when she pulls out a little but she starts her abuse on your cum filled cunny once more. you choke back a moan, “n-no—” you cry from the sensation, her cum began to leak out a little from her pumping herself once more into your cunt.

“sorry pretty.” she coo’s before pressing down on your tummy bulge, “gotta make sure nothing goes to waste,” she adds on. you’re too far gone to even realize what she’s saying so you dumbly nod at her words, letting her use your weak body as she pleases.

[cindol]

hi!! idk if your reqs r open but can I req the jjk men’s fav kinks?

JJK MEN AND THEIR FAVORITE KINKSᯓ★ !

tw — smut,consent is given before hand in all scenarios, choso’s part is really rushed,

cw ꒱ ! — sub choso, choso is blindfolded, spanking, gojo is a little mean, gojo ties reader’s hands, pussy eating, sukuna is a clan leader, sukuna fucks reader in front of people, nanami’s hands and legs are tied,

synopsis — jujutsu kaisen men and their favorite kinks .

a / n : my inbox is very much open ! I guess I ain’t make it seem like it is but it’s very much open for request and any questions y’all ! but I hope u enjoy annonie

CHOSO KAMO + PRAISE KINK + MOMMY KINK AND SENSATION PLAY !

At first he’ll whine at the confinements on his hands and eyes till he hears your soft voice in his ear.“shh.. relax baby, I’m right here.” while rubbing his thigh.

“mommy’s right here baby.” Hearing that makes the tips of his ears slightly flushed with a pink tint. He can’t even respond, just focused on your hands touching him from his thigh to his neck, placing gentle kisses on his neck down back to his chest.

Only moans and whimpers come from choso, when he’s in this state that’s all he can do instead of words. The only words coming from his mouth are.“mmph! Mommy please!” for the entirety of this. With how your wet lips touched and teased the tip of his dick he couldn’t be blamed for barely making coherent noises and words.

GOJO SATORU + IMPACT PLAY AND FOODPLAY!

Gojo loves impact play with you. Unlike some men who just like to spank their girl for punishment he does it for the fun of it. Seeing your ass turn a different slight shade from his spanking paddle as you were laid out on his lap satisfied him.

Hearing every gasp and moan come from you from each spank on your ass gets his familiar cocky laugh out of him. To give you a fake sense of comfort he rubs your ass in a smooth circle till he catches you off guard with a sharp spank again.“cmon babe you know me, I think you can take some more spanks.”

Food play is also a liking of his also. If he isn’t causing terror on your poor ass he’s treating you like his own dessert. His cherries, whipped cream and chocolate syrup never goes to waste.

On his bed you laid pretty on your back with your hands tied behind your back while gojo stood in front of you all he did was admire you with a whistle.”you look Mm.. how do they say in Spanish? Delicioso!”

His corny joke makes your cringe even in your restraints but he was right. On your body all drizzled on you was chocolate syrup from top to bottom, your tits having whipped cream topped with two blood cherry’s, even your private area having whip cream sprayed on top of it.

“You’re so childish satoru.. you’re lucky I actually love you enough to get this sticky ass sweet stuff on my body.”

Your words aren’t even being put into consideration for him, his eyes just on your body while he licked his lips like he found you delicious.“mhm mhm.. just let me eat you yeah?”

Before you respond he’s parting your legs,“artist gotta eat his art doesn’t he? Or however the hell it goes.” You just roll your eyes in a playful way at his corny joke.

The snarky expression on your face disappears once gojo licks a stripe of whipped creamed off your cunt making you gasp and squeeze at the bed sheets for some leverage for the mean time.

In big licks he licked stripes of the whipped cream off your pussy until he started to eat you out, making small kisses in between almost sloppy kissing your pussy.

Through your soft moans you tried speaking coherently but he made that difficult like he wanted to on purpose.“s-satoru slow down! or I might cum too early!”

satoru lifts his head only once to laugh.“exactly what the plan is.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN + EXHIBITIONISM !

a exhibitionism kink is a dangerous combo but it makes complete sense for a man like sukuna ryomen.

Ever since he saw how two of his clans men had a flustered face at one of the meetings at a visible rip in your kimono showing your thigh while you sat. It made him look more into kinks and he eventually discovered those kinks

He used the excuse of showing dominance to his clans men on what’s his but really he gets off on fucking the beloved woman of the clan knowing no other man could ever have this privilege.

In a spacious room usually used for clan meetings it’s instead used for erotic display of you. On the large stage as he fucked you with you arched on a soft cushion and one of your legs draped over his hip as support for his deep fucking of your wet cunt.

When he turned his head to see his men with flushed faces sitting on their knees and staring at the sight of each part of his wife’s body and breathy moans. a grin stretches on his handsome face at it.

“Watch men as I fuck what’s mine, and don’t dare to take your eyes off.” He treats this as a lesson for them just to show them what’s really his and his alone.

NANAMI KENTO + BONDAGE PLAY !

On rare occasions, nanami gives you the wheel to try and dominate. Of course you always fail even with him in bonds but still being the sweet man he is, it’s never not worth a try.

Nanami isn’t big on bondage, he’s not a big bdsm daddy, his arms and legs are tied to his own bed so he’s on display for you and the third leg he had was there for you too.

In front of him you were standing over him biting your nail with a smile slowly moving towards his body.“Mm.. Better hope you can hold out baby, this time I ain’t folding for you.” purring your words out as you got towards his body.

nanami had a feeling that was never true and just chuckled along.“I can handle whatever you throw at me I promise dear.”

It turns out he’s really right when you can barely take his dick even with him tied down. Hiccups and moans are pouring from your mouth as you ride him. It was always intriguing for nanami to see how the smile you originally had on your face thinking you really were gonna get him this time turned into a moaning one with your pouty lips all wobbly and your eyes rolled back.

For nanami, only his hair was a bit damp with some sweat running down from his forehead. He didn’t have some shit eating grin but a ‘I told you so’ smile while he watched as you struggled to dominate.

“P-please can’t anymore!” you moaned out your plea with your legs soon giving up with slower movements.

Nanami was a slight tease like he always was in this.“oh? Can’t anymore? Even with my hands tied baby.” a false disappointed sigh came from his lips.“need me to take the lead again hm?”

Your movements stopped completely with you nodding.“mhm…” your head laid against his chest for a moment.“But how are you gonna take the lead if you’re all tied up?”

a soft chuckle came from nanami and a head shake.“I think you misunderstand just how much power I can have darling.” using his hips he thrusted up into you getting a yelp and whimper to erupt from your mouth.

[cntloup]

Simon x gn!reader

purely self-indulgent, implied depression, mention of mental health, meds and doctors

"are you ok?" the husky voice that you know all too well sounds distant now, but doesn't fail to bring you back and anchor you to reality as it always does.

are you ok? really? it all seems foggy as you try to form even an ounce of coherent thought in your head.

then you remember why he asks such a question. it's probably because you pushed him away last night when he made it clear that he desired you in ways that you couldn't handle at the moment, you think to yourself.

"why? cause I'm not in the mood, it means I'm not ok? I'm not allowed to?" you blurt out suddenly, sounding more aggressive than you intend to.

"no, lovie. you know that's not what i mean. you haven't gotten out of bed all day." he responds calmly, all too familiar with your mood swings and ups and downs, mostly downs of your mental health.

then it finally clicks in your mind that you've been, in fact, slumped over the bed the whole day. and you eventually understand that he means well and you've been mistaken about what he means.

he's always been understanding of your condition and never has pushed you to do anything that you're not comfortable with.

"sorry... I-I don't know what's wrong with me." you mumble, head hanging low in embarrassment but he dismisses all that immediately, "nothing is wrong with you..." he speaks while taking your hand in his, "I'm here, love. everything will be ok. I promise." his soft tone and minimal words have a soothing effect on your broken soul.

yet you still feel that ever-present gaping hole inside you. the only difference now is that it doesn't seem impossible to mend as your gaze finally meets his, witnessing the worried look etched on his face, reassuring you that he's there for you.

"I can't go on like this..." your voice wavers as a lump forms in your throat and he reaches to caress your cheek.

"do you wanna do anything? anything to get you out of bed, love. we can start with something small." he suggests as you ponder the thought, "I need a shower." you reply sheepishly and he bends down to place a kiss on your forehead before picking you up gently and walking to the bathroom.

"have you taken your meds, baby?" he questions in a quiet tone as he places you on the counter, always making sure you're doing the best you can to take care of yourself, "yeah." you murmur back.

"you wanna visit your doctor? I can make an appointment for you if you want." he suggests and you nod, "that'd be great. thanks, Si."

"anything for you, baby." he whispers and kisses your lips, "I'll be right outside the door. just call me if you need anything." he says before leaving to give you some privacy.

while you take a quick shower, he calls your doctor's office and makes the appointment, thinking it's the least he can do to somewhat ease your pain.

you make it quick and come back out, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your lover's arms.

and eventually, you begin to see the silver lining in all these dark clouds that are looming over you, thinking how he makes it possible for you to finally heal.

[quintinh43]

All My Heart | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn has been off the ice for two weeks, and he isn't dealing with it well.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety/panic (attack?), general questioning of existence. Feelings, Angst, the whole roster basically.

Notes: yall please be careful reading this one! I did not mean for it to go the way it did but here we are. Please please please keep the warnings in mind, and if ever you need to stop reading please do. Take care of yourselves first loves. More notes at the end!

Wc: 1.6 k

---

Quinn felt like he was going insane. He'd been off the ice for two weeks due to an upper body injury, and it felt as if the restlessness had buried itself beneath his bones. He currently lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes and a mind that wouldn't relax.

His foot shook incessantly beneath the blanket as he tried to fall asleep, but the thoughts kept whirling. He had been having trouble sleeping since he'd been benched. The constant string of anxious thoughts preventing his mind from quieting down enough for him to slip into a blissful sleep.

"Quinn." You grumble, voice laced with sleepiness. His constant foot shaking had been pulling you in and out of sleep since the two of you had settled down for the night. But you had kept quiet in the hopes that he would be able to fall asleep eventually.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers sheepishly, his fingers start drawing soothing circles into your waist, from where his arm is wrapped around you. "I didn't mean to wake you," he murmers, pressing his lips against your hair in a gentle kiss.

"It's alright, love. But can you please please stop shaking your foot?" You mutter, still half asleep.

"Yeah, sorry baby," he murmers sheepishly. He stills his foot, and somehow, the thoughts become ten times more intense. He's going on a full week with a total of maybe four hours of sleep. It's fucking hell. He's been getting snappy during the day. Although you mostly leave it be, because he usually apologizes right after, and you know he doesn't mean when he says it, and it's just his anxiety about not being able to play.

Deciding that there is no use in trying to sleep, he waits until your breathing evens out into a quiet snore before untangling himself from you and slipping out of the bedroom quietly. Quinn finds himself in the kitchen, with no plan on what to do. It's nearly three in the morning.

He settles onto the floor in favour of stretching. Hoping that it will help calm him at least enough so that he's no longer obscenely jittery. Unfortunately, it does nothing useful for him. His next idea is to watch a movie. Maybe something stupid and mind-numbing will put him to sleep.

He makes himself a cup of chamomile tea and sinks into the couch, turning on the first Despicable Me movie. It's perfectly stupid enough to get him no longer thinking about hockey. Except, then there's a freeze-ray. And then Vector's in-house shark aquarium is reminding him of the Canucks.

He pauses the movie and puts down his empty mug on the coffee table with such a deep sigh. It feels as though his bones are rattling. He presses his palms to his eyes in desperation, wishing oh so terribly that he could be skating and playing hockey. He feels chained, having not been allowed on the ice for so long.

His second home, his freedom. Where it feels like he's flying. Where he feels invincible, like he can do anything. Quinn springs up from the couch, and he's pacing. He paces around the living room with such fervor that he might wear a hole into the floor.

He needs to get on the ice. Now. Or he's going to rip his hair out. And then, on top of being injured, he'll also be bald. Which would be the second worst thing to ever happen to him. The first being the fact that he hasn't been allowed on the ice for two full weeks.

With no coherent plan, he creeps around the apartment, throwing his skating equipment in a spare duffle bag. He's grabbing his car keys and slipping on his shoes when the bedroom door opens with a creek.

"Quinn?" Your voice is tired and confused. You're hugging your arms around your body to protect yourself from the chill of the apartment.

Quinn looks like a deer caught in headlights. His hair is sticking up in every which direction, his eyes are red from exhaustion, and his eyebags are so so dark. He's wearing two different shoes, and for fucks sake he's not even wearing a shirt.

You amble over to him cautiously, gently tugging the duffle bag from his hand. You can see the blades of his skates sticking out of the bag. "Baby, what are you doing?" Your eyes dart over to the time on the microwave. It's 3:47 am.

"Y/n" he breathes, it's desperate and pleading, and all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and take away all his pain and worries. "I need to go- I need to get out. I'm going insane." He whispers. There's a tremor in his hands as he runs them through his hair.

"Ok, my love, we're gonna go. Let's go put on some proper clothes first." You say lacing your fingers with his and tugging him towards the bedroom. He sighs, squeezing your hand tightly. Like he needs the physical reminder that you're with him. Otherwise, you'll disappear.

You successfully coax him into a hoodie and a touqe and pull a pair of sweatpants and one of Quinn's hoodies over your (his) t-shirt. Making sure Quinn is wearing the correct set of shoes, you grab the keys off the hook, sling his duffle bag over your shoulder, and grab his hand. As soon as your hands are linked again, his grip is tight. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

You throw his bag in the back seat and slide into the driver's side while Quinn slips into the passenger seat. As soon as he can, he grabs your hand again. You hold your intertwined hands tucked under your chin while you drive.

"Talk to me, Quinn," you murmur softly, stroking your thumb over the back of his knuckles.

Quinn sighs shakily. He wants to talk to you. He really does. But he's so used to burying everything down, to not be a burden. He's the oldest. He's supposed to be the leader, the strong one. He knows in his heart that if there's anyone he can talk to, it's you. You don't push. You know he'll talk when he's ready.

His leg is bouncing, and he's running his hand through his hair nervously as he formulates his thoughts into coherent sentences. "I feel like i'm going insane," he mutters. "i need - i need to get on the ice. It's my freedom. I feel chained to existence because I haven't been able to skate for so long."

Your heart breaks for him as you squeeze his hand, letting him know that you're listening.

"I'm sorry, that doesn't make any sense," he sighs.

"No baby, it does, I get what you're saying," you say softly.

"It's like, I'm being punished for something. Am I a bad person?" His voice is cracking, and if you thought it impossible for your heart to break further, you were just proven wrong.

"No, Quinn, you aren't a bad person. Injuries are inevitable. You didn't do anything to deserve this. I promise you, my love." You kiss the back of his hand, hoping that your lips can pour all your love and reassurance into him.

"Where are we going?" Quinn asks, squinting curiously at the rapidly passing treeline. You had exited onto the highway a little bit ago, with no plan or intention.

You shrug your shoulders, "No idea, I'm just driving."

Guilt washes over Quinn like a tidal wave. He tugs his hand from yours and covers his face, with embarrassment and exasperation at himself. He sighs into his hands, and all of a sudden, the emotions are too much again.

"Quinn?" You glance at him with concern. He's breathing deeply, trying to keep the anxiety from spiking again.

"I'm so sorry, I woke you up and dragged out at such an ungodly hour. And fuck- you have work in the morning. Baby, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -" he sounds like he's on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Quinn, baby, look at me." Your voice is so gentle as you wrap your hand around his wrist and tug it away from his face, "You are the most important thing to me. Forever and always, especially especially right now. Please, please, please, don't beat yourself up about it. I would drop everything for you in a heartbeat, my love."

His breathing is still shallow. You rest his hand on your chest and take deep, slow breaths. "Copy my breathing, Quinn."

It takes a minute for his breathing to match yours, "Good job Honey" you smile, keeping his hand pressed against your chest.

"Can we go home?" He whispers, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Of course, baby, whatever you want." You take the next exit and head in the direction of your shared apartment. The drive is mostly silent, only the sounds of deep breathing and the occasional shuddering sigh fill the car.

As soon as you're back in the apartment, Quinn is pulling off his hoodie and toque, "I need you to lay on top of me," Quinn all but begs.

"Alright, lay down wherever you want." You say, stripping if your own hoodie and sweats. He lays on the floor. The bed is too soft. He can't handle the sinking feeling. You lay directly on top of him, and he let's out a relieved sigh, his arms tightening around your waist.

"Love you so much, Y/n," he murmers into your cheek.

"I love you too, Quinn, with all my heart," you say gently, stroking his hair soothingly. He falls asleep within half an hour, and you pass out right after him.

And when the two of you wake up, if you take him skating. Well, that's no one's business but your own.

---

I know I said I probably wasn't gonna post for like a week and a half cause of school, but the inspiration hit, and I wrote this in like... an hour. So if it's really bad, well...

And just cause I haven't said it before, everything I write is purely fictional! I don't know how the hughes act in real life! I am simply writing them as characters.

I might end up taking this one down, so...

Anyways. Please take care of yourselves, yall. Leave comments! And as always, Love Soph.

[beenbaanbuun]

panic w/ jeong yunho

(this isn’t proof read because i wrote it at like 5am…)

——————————————————————————

yunho’s hand lands on your knee, warm and study and exactly what you need to ground yourself. your eyes focus on it; your body does too. you need this, you tell yourself, you need it to settle your mind and you need it to settle your heart. neither of them are going at the pace at which they should.

“you okay?” he murmurs under his breath, not looking at you or seemingly paying that much attention to you at all. you’re grateful in a way; attention is the last thing you need right now, especially from yunho. one worried look from him might be the breaking point, setting you off on a downward spiral that would certainly take a lot more than a hand rested gently upon a knee to fix.

you can’t help but shuffle closer to him, the hot metal of the park bench burning your thighs through your jeans. that too helps ground you, but not in the gentle way yunho does. it brings you back down the earth rather too sharply, making you suck in a wince. suddenly you’re no longer unpleasantly floating up in space, but instead you’re here, present and absolutely, indisputably not good.

“no,” you admit as your heart rate picks up once more, the panic of everything setting in. the burning in your thighs came to a stop almost immediately, but that doesn’t mean that everything still isn’t bad. it is. it’s so very bad. “yunho, i—” you cut yourself off with a heaving sob, one that you hadn’t anticipated for even a second. you hadn’t been crying mere seconds ago, but right now you can feel the fiery tears that run down your face like magma, carving a path against your skin.

it’s bad. everything is bad.

well, maybe not everything. yunho’s hand is still on your thigh, unmoving as your emotions take over your body like waves in an angry tempest. it’s like the eye of the storm, providing you with a quick break from the overwhelming barrage of emotions that threaten to make your flood defences fall. all you have to do is focus on that sturdy warmth and that’s it; everything is quiet for just a second.

“what do you need?” he said, eyes still focused on the duck pond before you. “tell me, honey; i want to help you.”

and you want him to help! you want it so bad that it hurts your chest to even think about that hand slipping away from your thigh. the only issue is you don’t know how he can help. you barely have a moment to piece together a single coherent thought, let alone figure something like that out. what do you need, you ask yourself. other than yunho’s hand, what exactly is it that you need…

you think about the hand and what it gives you—warmth, stability, comfort—and you think about the way it makes you feel. you want that feeling in swathes, that safety and peace that fills your mind for a fleeting second every time you bring your attention back to that hand. you want it everywhere. the warmth that feels like summer rays breaking through the clouds of the storm, the stability of the harbour walls tethering the boats to safety, the comfort of knowing that the end of the storm is near.

it twigs in your brain.

“you,” is the only word you can muster before a new wave of tears washes over you. they fall like raindrops onto your hands curled up on your lap, the slow dripping only adding the the already long list of everything that is pushing you closer and closer to the edge of that spiral. you can only hope yunho can somehow understand your cryptics as you let out sob after sob.

“me?” he whispers to himself, questioning your words, “you want me? baby, you have me, what do you—” he looks down at his hand, the single anchor tethering you to port. without it you’d be adrift, and he knows you well enough to know that. oh, he can’t help but smile, you want him. “you want to come into my lap? because it’s open for you, baby. it’s always open for you,” and perhaps you already know that, but perhaps in your frenzied state you just need the reminder.

you’re barely able to nod before yunho’s other hand is on you, finding your waist almost immediately. the hand from your knee slides up your thigh so as not to take away that contact you’d grown so used to. you can’t help but be grateful at how thoughtful he is, kind to the very centre of his soul. that hand also comes to a stop at your waist.

you don’t even blink an eye as he tugs at your shaking body, manoeuvring you until you’re on his lap, thighs against thighs, spine pressing against chest. the hands snake themselves around your waist, coming to a halt once his arms are firmly locking you in place. he gives you a squeeze, reassuring you that he’s there. you give him a soft hum in response, not quite words, but still not silence. he takes it graciously, tucking his head into your shoulder and placing a kiss upon your sweaty skin.

“you have me, baby,” he murmurs as you finally set your sights on the end of this. your heart settles itself on that single piece of blue sky in the distance, and you let yourself relax into yunho’s body knowing that this will all be a thing of the past soon enough.

[rainroses45]

Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

[arminsumi]

i’ve had this dumb idea in my head for weeks where you really wanna dye ur hair blonde so you ask gojo what toner he uses to get his hair so perfectly white & how many times a month he has to bleach his roots and he’s like 🤨 wtf do u mean? and then he shows you his eyes for the first time and you see his white eyelashes and ur like HUH?

if this request is dumb don’t worry abt writing it 😭

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒꒱

GOJO x gn.reader

A/N: I THOUGHT ABT THIS REQ ALL DAY and just gave in and wrote it at 1 am instead of sleeping lol😭❤️ tysm anon bb i love ur mind

Wc: >700

Content; cheesy-ish fluff

Warnings; some flirting, nickname sweetheart used, a little suggestive at the end

arminsumi's library

He was in his office, making it seem like he was dedicated to his hard work by shuffling around important-looking documents across his desk. He totally wasn't doing a crossword puzzle out of boredom. He totally wasn't ecstatic to see his favorite student stop by his office.

"Gojo!"

"Nuh-uh, address me properly, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes, not realizing that he could see right through that silken black fabric wrapped around his head. But because you were his favorite, he let your cute little eyeroll slide.

"Gojo-sensei." you corrected.

"Mmm?" he hummed as if to ask: what is it?

"So, I wanna dye my hair — and before I do, I wanna talk to you about it."

Awww, that flattered him so much. His heart lurched. "Oh? What color?"

"Blond — maybe platinum."

He imagined it for a moment, then replied. "Blond would look good on you, but I like your hair as it is..."

"Yeah yeah!" you waved dismissively at his compliment, not registering it as such. "so, what toner should I use?"

"Uhhh — I don't know?"

"Well what toner do you use? Your hair always looks pristinely white, seems like you know how to maintain the color right. Does it cost a lot? And, can bleaching make my hair fall out? Oh, do you use special shampoos too? And, how often do you have to bleach your roots?"

Through this flood of confusing questions that you dumped on him all at once, his face just said... what are you on about lol

"I don't dye my hair..."

"What...?"

He let out a little chuckle.

"Come here. Lemme show you something."

You confusedly drew closer to where he sat with his one leg crossed over the other. The noon light illuminated the drifting dust behind him, backlighting his fluffy mess of hair.

"Closer, closer — don't be shy now." he encouraged with a playful sultriness.

This was definitely the closest you had been to him. Excepting that one time he engulfed you in a welcome-back hug at the airport.

"Lift my blindfold up." he commanded simply.

"What?" You blushed. You blushed WILDLY.

He chuckled as if he was a cheeky high school boy playing a prank.

"Just lift it up."

So you slowly — very slowly — slipped a timid finger under his blindfold, your skin feeling ignited as it glided across the soft, warm skin of his cheekbones.

Taking his blindfold off felt like... well, it's an inappropriate comparison, but it felt like you were undressing him. He could feel your energy flowing more turbulently — ahem, in other words, he could feel you getting more nervous because of this situation that he threw you into.

It was laughable how dramatically everything stopped when you peeled up his blindfold.

Blue. No, an infinite blue. You felt like you fell into his irises. Oh... and also, you noticed... white lashes and white brow hairs. Huh.

"Woah... woah that's..."

"All natural, baby." he grinned like a jackass.

It was hard to form a coherent thought because of those eyes.

"I see... so... 'guess I'll just go ask someone else about toner and stuff." you said laughingly.

"Mhm."

You had a question on the tip of your tongue. One obvious and stupid, but you surprisingly hadn't asked it before.

"Can you see through your blindfold...?"

"Obviously. You didn't know that?" He chuckled.

You felt your cheeks sear with blush. The heat reached your jawline and ears. That was so embarrassing for some reason.

"I'm so sorry about the eyerolls."

"I'll let it slide, 'cause you're my favorite student." he winked.

Whatever mush was left of your brain completely evaporated when he winked at you. Your teacher just giggled like a cheeky teenager and lowered his blindfold again.

When you were about to leave his office for the store before closing time, you stopped at the door and looked back at him.

"So... wait a minute..."

"Hm?" he hummed.

"If you can see through your blindfold... then can you see through my — never mind!"

You stopped mid sentence and scampered away like a mouse. Gojo just roared with a hearty laugh and lightly blushed. He never did answer that question.

[odigaon]

baby

summary: you and your boyfriend decide to start a family together

rating: smut, 18+

characters: optional bias x afab reader

word count: 1,161

warnings: dumbification, oral (female receiving) impreg, unprotected sex

unedited!

—————————————————————————————————————————

there you were. spread out, dripping, and anticipating what he was going to do next. the thick fog of subspace hazing your brain was preventing any fully coherent thought from forming in your head. it was okay though. you knew that he was there.

for the last hour you had been bent into multiple positions all over your apartment (and outside): the car before you even arrived home, the front door, the couch, and the dining room table before he finally got you into the bedroom. your poor cunt was swollen and tender from cumming so many times, but every touch from him still felt as good as ever.

now he had you here on your shared bed. on your back with your legs spread and knees pushed up to your chest. his face was buried in your pussy, no doubt that his mouth was covered in spit and cum. how many times had you been eaten out tonight? three? four? it feels so good your brain is practically melting out of your ears.

at this point you think he must be doing it for his pleasure and not yours. every swipe of his tongue and suckle from his mouth has you keening and whimpering. words aren’t even being formed but he knows just what you need.

what gets you the most though? his moaning and whining. every time he feels you clench around his tongue makes him want to stop just slide into you and feel it on his cock. when he hears your voice pick up in pitch, he presses your knees further into your chest and avidly continues exactly what he was doing in order to get you your release for the fifth time that night.

you feel the knot in your tummy start to tighten. toes curling and fingers grasping on to the sheets as best you can, you try your best to warn him, but the only thing that can leave your lips are moans and whines.

letting out a loud squeal, your release hits you like a freight train. white hot pleasure radiates from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet. black spots dot your vision as you try to come down from your high. you feel him pull away from your cunt and sit up slowly. trying to blink away the haze, you do your best to follow him with your eyes.

he massages your thighs and whispers, “are you feeling okay, baby?”

when all you can do is sigh and blink at him he giggles, “silly me. why am i asking you when you’re too fucked out to answer? i’m sorry. my dumb little baby can only think with her pretty pussy right?”

you feel your cheeks flare up. even fucked out, you can tell his tone is the one he uses in times like this: a bit mean but still conveying his love and adoration for you.

“not dumb.” you muster out

“oh so my pretty girl can use her voice! what do you want next baby? no begging. just tell me and i’ll give it to you. but you have to use that pretty voice of yours or i’m gonna have you the way i want,” he says while lightly tracing the outer folds of your pussy.

“cock!”

embarrassing. you meant to form a full sentence, but evidently it’s not in the cards for you tonight.

“aw does my pretty baby want my cock?”

you nod your head frantically

“uh uh uh. words, baby.”

“yes. wan’ your cock please.”

he smiles one of smiles he saves for when you do something especially cute. pushing him self up slightly, he readjusts you both to be a bit more comfortable.

“you ready?”

“mmhm.”

he lines him self up, and slides home. or at least it might as well be home.

the first slide in is always his favorite. the sound you make is a drawn out combination of a moan and a whine. that sounds almost makes him blow every time.

he presses into you further and you think you feel all the air leave your lungs. he’s so deep, you think you feel him in your stomach. every inch deeper is making you lose your mind and before you know it, all train of thought leaves you and you are solely focused on his cock inside you. the loud ground that leaves him sends you over the edge again; tightening up on him and preventing him from moving .

“fuck baby. i love you so fucking much. your cunt was made for me. i wish i could spend the rest of my life inside you, pretty girl.”

god. the things he’s saying.

if that’s one thing you love about him fucking you: he always ends up fucking the both of you dumb.

the slow, deep thrusts leave you clenching and unclenching around him uncontrollably. one small change in the position, putting your knees back up to your chest, leaves him grazing your g spot. now your mouth has become a waterfall of whines and moans, if anyone tried to quiet you right now, you don’t think they could.

you feel him leaning down close to your ear and nuzzling your neck.

“yeah? that feel good baby? god i wanna cum inside you so bad. will you let me?”

all you can do is wrap your arms around his back and sink your nails into his broad shoulders.

“yeah? want me to cum inside? fuck, pretty girl wants me cum inside her and get her pregnant, huh?”

at that, your eyes nearly roll back in your head. pregnant? he always talked about wanting kids, but you didn’t know that he wanted them this bad.

a chorus of “yeses” start leaving your mouth. all you want, all you’ve been thinking about for the past couple months while the both of you had sex was how bad you wanted him to cum in you.

“you’d look so beautiful pregnant.”

it’s the last straw. as you’re cumming again you muster enough effort to reply to him.

“i want them to have your laugh.”

he starts picking up the pace and leans away slightly to look at you clearly. the pretty smile and misty eyes tell you that he loves you.

“I want them to look just like you, baby. your eyes, your smile, your cute little nose. i want them to know how great of a mommy they have.”

your eyes start to tear up. how can this man make you feel like this while still fucking you so good?

whimpering louder, you clench down on him in an effort to keep him inside. you want nothing more than for him to fill you up with his cum and get you pregnant right now in this moment.

his groans and moaning grow in volume as he gets closer to his release.

whispering out a small, “please. fill me up. i want it all. please. i wanna make you a daddy.”

his thrusts start to grow sloppy and he begins thrusting into you without his earlier finesse.

“you want it all? i’ll give it all to you baby. only you.”

with a handful more thrusts, your boyfriend is finishing inside you. his head drops into your neck while he rides out his high, whimpering in your ear. reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, you ask, “you really think i’ll be a pretty mom?”

he chuckles a bit at that, smiling into your skin and giving you a small kiss.

“i said beautiful. not just pretty.”

a soft blush colors your cheeks. he lightly strokes the side of your face while he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“you really wanna be parents right now?”

at that he lifts up, gives you small kiss on the forehead, nose, and then lips. he grasps your sides gently and shuffles the both of you around to where your head now lays on his shuddering chest.

“i want nothing more, baby. i’d do or give up anything in order to start a family with you.”

at that, your eyes mist over. god, you really love this man.

“should we start thinking of baby names and nicknames then?”

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